A Random Crossover Idea
by Elfopolis
Summary: I saw a picture of the Malcolm Reynolds holding a gun to the Doctor aboard Serenity, and this introduction popped into my head. I don't know if I'll attempt to turn it into a whole fic, I don't think I'm smart enough to write a plot for Eleven, haha.


_**Author's Note: Since this is just some random thing that popped into my head, I didn't put in the Chinese Curse that Mal uses towards the Mid-End. They have very specific curse words on Firefly and I don't want to mess it up, so I just left it out. _

_BUT HEY. Feedback please! If this seems like it could be good I might try to add to it, AFTER I finish my other fic though. I swear, I AM working on it. Anyways..._

_Click_

"We're out of the woods, guys. Burning good and clean, we're looking at a good week before we reach Persephone. Hope you all did yer linens."

Wash's voice rang out across the metal frame of the firefly ship, giving information that the sudden cease of turbulence already confirmed for the crew. Another heist complete, life was due to continue aboard Serenity as it always did when transferring the goods. One big long wait.

"He's right, you know," Malcolm Reynolds, captain of the renegade cargo ship, hollered to the crew, chewing on a piece of his apple. He juggled a knife and the fruit in one hand while pointing at the dining table with the other, "Any o' you start to give off a particular bad smell, I won't have you at my dinner table."

"Well, I guess that means we won't have to set a plate for Jayne anymore…" Simon muttered, sipping bland coffee from a tin mug.

The man mentioned was sitting at the other end of the dining quarters, cleaning fresh blood off of one of his hunting knives. At the mention of his name, he looked up, and raised the top corner of his lip in disgust, "Huh? Hey, Doc, I don't smell any worse than you. Even your rich and fancy clothes start to reek of this old dump after a while."

"Excuse me?" Kaylee said, as she banged a bowl of rice down next to Jayne, "Serenity's not-"

"And what about Kaylee?" Jayne went on, pointing at the redhead. "She's always smells like engine grease."

"Which is not a terribly bad smell, Jayne," Mal countered, walking up, and patting Kaylee on the shoulder, "Doc's right, though, you smell something mighty terrifying. At least put on a decent shirt."

"What's wrong with the one I got on?" Jayne looked down at the forest green T-Shirt he had on, smeared with dirt and blood.

"Oh, nothing. It matches your persona perfectly." Simon said.

Mal muttered a Chinese curse under his breath as the three started to argue, "Aye, …", and, waving the others off, hopped up the short steps towards the living quarters hallway. He waved one hand at Wash, who nodded in respond, through the open doorway at the pilot's seat, and turned left to kick open his chambers. He slid down the ladder and immediately tore off his ragged shirt, replacing it with another of the same reddish color. He pulled out his sink, washed his hands and his face of the mud and blood they got in their scuffle while pulling goods for Badger, a sleazy and undependable businessman, who had given them slightly off-the-mark information once again. Ah, well, whatever the job ends up being, as long as they got paid.

Serenity was a bit chilly this evening, and he grabbed his long, brown coat. He stood there for a moment, brushing at the collar so it sat comfortable over his long sleeves, when he felt a strange sensation in the metal below his feet, as if there was some vibration flowing through it. He stopped what he was doing, and cocked his head to the side.

And there, faint, a strange grating sound faded into his ears, and out, just as quickly. He could barely hear it, and scrunched up his face as he strained to listen. In and out, again, it came, and not wanting to miss it, he ran to the opening of his quarters and shoved his head flat against the walls.

VVvvvvwoooooorrrrp….vvvvvvvvwooooorrrrrp…

It pulsed through the metal, the sound was too tangible to be from the outside...and then it stopped.

"What the…" Mal turned and climbed up the ladder. As he exited his quarters he turned his head to Wash. "Did you hear that?"

Wash turned around and blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

"Sir?" Zoe's head popped into view next to Wash, but Mal told her to never mind.

He turned and walked down the hallway, turning down into the staircase that went through the lounging area and med center, and then up into the cargo-bay. He walked into the large expanse of a room and across the hanging walkways, down the stairs to see, under the main platform, amidst the goods he had stolen for Boxer, a huge blue box, just sitting there. It was rectangular in size, and its sides were paneled, with small windows alight towards the upper half of its walls. And up on top, a lamp, bright and shining. Panels right below it showed that it was a….Police public call box?

"….Well, I don't remember stealin' this…"Mal muttered, gazing in confoundment at this strange piece of architecture that had appeared in his cargo bay. He then reached behind him, hitting a button on the control pad.

"Wash, is Zoe still up there with you?" He asked.

"Yeah, wh-"

"Zoe," Mal said, turning towards the microphone, "Did we by any chance steal some big blue thing with um…a big light and…windows…and other stuff on it?"

"….Sir?" Came Zoe's voice, sounding much like Mal felt.

"Like…a really old phone booth or something?" Mal tried again.

"Well, technically, it's a _police_ phone booth-

"BWAAHH!" Mal yelped, his hand slipping from the radio as he spun around to face this new, unfamiliar voice. Meanwhile, the man he now saw was only yards from him, and, un-fazed by Mal's start, had not even paused from his speech.

"-or a _public police phone booth_, for use of the public, pretty nifty invention, you see, back before people had the use of wireless devices. Funny thing though, sometimes it was also used to store criminals when the coppers were too lazy to take them where they needed to go, or perhaps if they had any particular culinary cravings at the time…" He paused, this strange man, looking about as if contemplating something, then he met his eyes with Mal with a cautious look, "…that's why I never trust the police…" He said slowly.

"How the ***** ***** did you get on my ship?" Mal asked, still breathing heavily, but his gaze held firm with this man, who now seemed to be looking everywhere but at him. The initial shock over, this mannerism was already wearing on his patience.

"Bit of a navigational error, sorry," He answered distractedly, lifting his hand to straighten the red bowtie that he wore around his neck. His fashion choice was rather strange, and Mal quickly looked him up and down, sizing him up. The bowtie was wrapped around an off-white collared shirt, vertically striped with pinkish tones. He wore over it a jacket that ended at the upper thigh and was tweed, with brown leather elbow patches sewn in. Plain, thick black pants were worn over old, worn combat boots, much less equipped than Mal's own or anybody else's on the ship for that matter. His hair was swept to the side in some strange part like Simon's (though Simon seemed to be more successful at taming the style), and his green eyes were wide, taking in everything. He looked like a big child to Mal.

And then he was running his mouth again. "Won't happen again-NOW." He switched subjects without a beat, and turned away from Mal, taking a couple of steps towards the middle of the cargo area. "Big universe small ship moving target, hard location to hit - why would the tardis bring me here. I was looking for the central hub of parliament but it seems I've made a mistake or MAYBE-" He rose his hand, and in it was a strange, bronze, silver, and black device. He began to turn back towards Mal, "Maybe I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be-Oh. Hello."

His eyes glanced briefly at the barrel of the laser pistol now pointed at him, before waving his own device towards Mal, who flinched, as it made a noise (he had never heard anything like it before), and expelled a green light. Now the man held it up, and cocked his head to the side to stare at it. Mal grimaced.

"I think you underestimate the position you are in, Mr. You show up on my ship with your big blue box and your fancy bowtie, start waving things of unknown origin in my face, and are frankly making matters in my life stranger than I care for. And I've seen some strange things."

"Doctah." He said simply, his rare accent lifting the last syllable of the word. From above, there came the sound of a shotgun cocking, and Mal glanced up to see Zoe on the platform above, her weapon trained on the man. Good girl…

"''Scuse me?" Mal asked impatiently.

"It's 'Doctah', not Mr." He said, then looked up at the captain. "Knowing the circumstances, it would be best that we learn each others' names. "

"Well, we've already got a doctor," Mal responded ," And _What_ circumstances? You best start making some guaram sense or I've got a mind to shoot you out the back door."

The Doctor's face became serious, and he dropped the hand with the device in it. "Yes, yes, I'm sure you have, but you haven't got me. And with what's to come, you're going to need _me_, captain-you are the captain, aren't you? Big lad like you, strutting around in your fancy coat, waving guns around, first to notice something out of place on his ship, course you're the captain," He stepped forward before Mal could react and brushed his hands on his shoulders. Zoe flinched, finger tightening on the trigger but not firing. Mal didn't move, just glanced at the man's hands, "Oh, I like you, like your coat," He added, flinging his head to the side, and raising his eyebrows, as if remembering something from the past, "and you seem to be just. The man. I. Need. Now, more seriously…you mentioned something strange, and maybe you've seen it, but I'm looking for something, something _important_, so so important, something that will define every moment of the next hundred years, and in your favor if I might add, so, what will it be Captain…still wanting to send me to the plank? Well…space plank…" He had a sly grin on his face now, his eyes gleaming as If he were eating this all up, seemingly unaware that he could be shot dead at any moment.

This fellow was strange, Mal thought to himself. Too strange for him to be taking the risk to deal with. And yet…

He lowered his weapon, then looked at Zoe, who after a brief second of eye contact, lowered hers as well, but kept her finger on the trigger.

"Alright, Doctor," Mal said, "What's this _thing_ you're aiming to find?"

"Gather your men, captain," The Doctor said, clasping his hands together, "I'm going to need everyone you've got."


End file.
